


Mum

by ameliamoriarty (vergule)



Category: Skins (UK)
Genre: F/F, Gina Campbell - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-22
Updated: 2012-11-22
Packaged: 2017-11-19 06:11:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/570068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vergule/pseuds/ameliamoriarty





	Mum

Disclaimer: I do not own Skins.

Emily loves my mum. They have such delightful conversations. Cook has given Paddy his blessing to call her his grandmother.

But I can't see her the way they do.

She should have been careful. Maybe I wouldn't exist then. I'm sure it means something that she kept me, but all I think about is her doing weed with her hippie friends, having threesomes in the living room as I stayed cooped up in my bedroom, afraid of all the noise, sometimes having to hold the door to my bedroom closed so buzzed partygoers would have relations against the door instead.

My mum never lied to me about that.

She never lied about Christmas or the tooth fairy either.

Something I can say about my mother is that she ever let anyone touch me inappropriately or lay a hand on me.

Emily comforts me, but sees my mum as a liberal, as very lax about what I did growing up. Completely the opposite from the privacy-less hell she grew up in.

Cook understands what it feels like, but I won't break his image of her.

I just wanted mum to care about me. I knew she loved me, but we could never snuggle up on the couch, maybe because she frequently gave them away. We didn't have a TV for years.

With little to no income, from her various boyfriends, we ate, but I never had a chance at proper schooling. I would sit in the library of my primary school, pouring over pages in my ragged secondhand uniform, hiding from my tormentors.

I never dreamt about a happy ending because fairytales were sexist and she didn't enjoy the morals. I got no pleasure from reading them behind her back because I was as strong-minded and stubborn as she was.

I suppose we inherit the worst from our parents.

I know I screwed up, just like my father. I never expected anything different.

Contrary to popular belief, I am the weakest person I've ever met.

Not that it's ok when she never noticed all the times I cried myself to sleep.

I did enjoy the Beauty and the Beast. Sleeping in the park under the slide, I often dreamt someone would love me, someone soft, someone who would realize I was a good person. But only when I thought no one would find out my secret.

The two women in my life, having a cup of tea at the table, are the strongest people I've ever met. I could never dream of being that strong.

Emily is much more than I can handle. It's not denial when I say I'm not an alcoholic, but I'm no stranger to a drink every now and then. Just to take the edge off. Because she's never been afraid to hit me where it hurts.

Is it so bad to need someone? To want to be needed?

To want to be unconditionally loved?

I think I'll always be a little bit lonely.

I want my mum.


End file.
